Red Rose
by silverwolf04
Summary: <html><head></head>You can't have one without the other.</html>


**A/N**- So I was feeling angsty and this came out of no where. It isn't connected to any of my other stories, complete one off.

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><p>Standing at his grave, it still didn't make any sense. He thought being by the grave would be different. He'd be able to feel again. Sadness, anger, grief. Any of it would be preferable to the all consuming numbness that had taken his body, heart and mind ever since... that day. The day he'd died. The day they both had. One physically and the other in every other way that mattered until he was a shadow of his former self.<p>

Did people seriously expect him to just get over it? To recover from losing the most important person in the world. The only important person in the whole world. His friend, partner, the love of his life.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips, but it held no humour, no emotion. He'd always thought describing someone as "the love of your life" was so needlessly over-dramatic. That was until he'd felt it himself. The perfect warmth of being in his arms, the brilliant thrill of kissing him, the feeling of rightness just being with him. Life had never been as good. And it never would be again.

He'd been happy with life before him. At least he thought he had been. It was when Mike had introduced them that day in Bart's that he realised that maybe there was something else, something better. The moment their eyes met he'd known. Fine, he hadn't known straight away, it wasn't love at first sight. They'd spent months as flatmates before becoming lovers. It annoyed him now. That was months wasted. No, he quickly told himself, not wasted. No moment in his company had ever been wasted. He'd gladly go back to being just flatmates if he would only come back.

In that moment he felt. He felt it all. Anger, grief, hopelessness and sadness. The rush of emotions made his knees buckle and he fell to the ground, tears escaping his eyes as his hand reached out to trace the letters that made up his love's name.

How could he go? How could he leave him alone? They were meant to be together for the rest of their lives. He hadn't asked for forever, he didn't want the impossible. He just wanted the man he loved, the man he'd been waiting for without even knowing. The man who had come into his life and filled it up when he didn't know it had been empty. They needed each other. There couldn't be one without the other.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. Until darkness had fallen, the dampness of the grass had leached into trousers and the night air chilled him to the bone. Not that he'd noticed. He'd been cold since that day. He had a terrible feeling that he'd be cold for the rest of his life. However long that might be.

Finally, when he felt as frozen as the unmoving stone angels that were scattered around the graveyard, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a single red rose.

It had become a tradition between them. He had always liked roses, particularly red ones. He'd said they smelled the nicest. So every special occasion, birthdays, Christmases, anniversaries he would leave him a single red rose to find in the flat. It would be a different place every time. Next to the kettle, on top of his pillow, on the mantelpiece by the skull. He never gave it to him personally and they never spoke about it. Some things didn't need to be said.

He would never find this rose. But he would leave it for him. Because it was their anniversary. Three years since they'd met in that lab, and two weeks since he'd lost the one good thing in his life.

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><p>Lestrade stood next to two graves. The graves of his best friends. The two men he loved like brothers. The two men who had loved each other more than life itself.<p>

One gravestone was slightly newer than the other, not that you could tell unless you looked at the dates. Stone took years to age, unlike people. Geoff Lestrade had aged more in the last four months than he had in the last four years. But losing two of the most important people in your life did that to you.

He'd lost one to a bullet. It hurt but it had been quick and Lestrade knew that he had known the risks and accepted them. In some way Lestrade had been prepared for that type of death. But the second had been excruciating. He had just faded away and there was nothing Geoff could do to stop it. He just couldn't live without him. They couldn't live without each other. Lestrade knew without out a doubt if the situation had been reversed the outcome would have been the same. They said grief couldn't kill you, you can't die of a broken heart. They were wrong.

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><p>Disclaimer- These characters are not mine. They belong to ACD, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat and the BBC. Just borrowing the characters for a while.<p>

Please read and review.


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